Legacy: Secrets, & a Missing Conversation
by Isolde Jansma
Summary: The retrovirus, oh the retrovirus...


She was not at the briefing, which he had expected given the news about the retrovirus, and how it worked with the modifications she'd applied. Surely she could rejoice in that; he knew her compassion and her bravery well. The taste of both lingered still in his handmouth, rarer than diamonds, but with all of their clarity. No, instead, there was talk of the weapon, and justification from the Lanteans for their decision to keep it. A decision he found highhanded, as arrogant as the ancestors they both shared.

The sound of his boots against the floors of Atlantis focused Guide on the direction they took, he and his guards. Not towards the infirmary, as he thought, but another area of the city, one he'd visited more often with McKay. One of the laboratories then, he supposed, where the Fair One would be working.

A corner loomed ahead, and then a set of doors that parted with a hiss as they approached, and Guide strode through it, casting about the room. Jennifer sat at a console, her head bent over a terminal, tapping at it with rapid strokes, busy inputting information. Honey-gold hair drifted from the severe ponytail caught at her neck, a small curl brushing against her cheek, the rest haphazardly pushed back behind her ear. Even from the doorway, Guide could see she looked worn, frayed at the edges.

"Dr. Keller."

No need to announce his presence then, when one of the young soldiers seemed so eager to do it for him. Straightening his shoulders, Guide moved further into the room, long skirts flaring, and she looked up, smiled, a ghost of an expression. It didn't reach her eyes, which were wary, haunted, dark shadows embedded in the thin flesh beneath them.

"Sorry I didn't make the meeting," she said, but didn't quite meet his gaze, flickering away at the last minute. Her hand indicated the bank of machines. "I wanted to get this done."

Guide lowered his head in polite acknowledgment and waited for her to say more. Preoccupied, Jennifer continued to write, and then seemed to realise the cortege remained with them. A faint frown creased her brow, and she tilted her head.

"You can go." When the young marine hesitated, she added, "It's fine, sergeant. The Commander and I have worked together over the last few months a great deal, and we need to start -"

"I'm sorry, Doc," he interrupted, "but Mr. Woolsey -"

"Will understand, and I'll inform him it was me that took the decision to send you away."

Uncertain, the man pursed his lips and ran a shrewd gaze over Jennifer, then Guide. He came to a decision. "We'll be outside ."

Jennifer's mouth twisted into a smile. "Thanks."

The sergeant nodded, and turned on his heel, the other soldier following in his footsteps. As soon as the door slid shut, Guide came and stood at her shoulder. Curious, he wanted to see the improvements she'd made, and he tracked the monitors, ran an expert glance over the many strands of information. What the Fair One had accomplished in so short a time was remarkable. But at what cost, he wondered, and appraised her surreptitiously, noting the pallor of her skin. A small detail on one of the terminals attracted his attention.

Reaching past her shoulder with his offhand, Guide tapped a talon against one of the screens. "I find myself impressed again, my dear."

A faint colour stained her cheeks, and she gave a little snort. "Right. Thanks."

Surprised, he glanced at her, though why he should expect any other reaction escaped him. "You don't see the merit in this work?"

"If it works for everyone, yeah, of course. But just because it did for me, doesn't mean it will for an entire population."

Drawing in a breath, Guide stopped his next remark before it could leave his lips. It wouldn't do to tell her he did not care about others, but was glad it worked at all. After all, the Fair One was human, compassionate, and he knew she'd refuse to see her patients subjected to unnecessary risk. She would insist on further simulations, trials, and perhaps one or two willing volunteers. He did not believe many of those in Atlantis would step forward, but certainly Worshippers might well do such a thing. Indeed, Alabaster's own guards wanted to serve in that very capacity – were eager for the honour. There would be many to come forward for the chance to give their life for their gods, Guide thought, and his mind dwelt on a number of planets within his alliance. But all of that meant delay, and he could not endorse it.

"Perhaps we can refine it enough," he murmured, and leant across her to drag a promising section to another area of the screen. It was impossible to miss when her breath hitched, or how her fingers shook, and Guide hissed softly. "Fair One," he breathed, and covered her fingers with his hand, "are you afraid?"

For the first time, she met his gaze head on. "Terrified."

"What we attempt is terrifying on many levels." His fingers tightened briefly until he felt the tremor subside. "There will be no way back if we are entirely successful."

Jennifer looked away, her eyes narrow and thoughtful, focused on the far wall as if seeking clarity. "For either of us," she whispered.

And Guide did not know whether she spoke of Wraith and human, or for herself and him. "No," he concurred. "It will be a long road we choose."

"As long as we travel it together, then there will be a chance of peace and hope, Guide," she said, and gazed into his face. Hope shone in her eyes, lightened her face for a moment, hiding her weariness. "I will see this through to the end, if you will too."

Lifting his offhand, Guide stroked her cheek. "It will be an honour."


End file.
